Visiting Germany
by GoldDark
Summary: When the eccentric Italy decides to drag his grumpy brother Romano on a trip to visit Germany, what started as normal starts to get...hectic, to say the least. It doesn't help that Spain decides to show up later. Has mild references to Germany/Italy, but it's all used jokingly, so don't get your panties in a twist. :P


AN: So, hello everybody! This is my first time writing a fanfic, and it's a gift for my friend AlasEeVee, who convinced me to start writing! As I said, this fic is _not_ slash centered, but there_ are_ mentions of it. So for all of you who don't like slash, this shouldn't bother you too much.

Warnings: Some swearing, but what do you expect with Romano around?

I apologize for being a _bit_ on the heavy side with the foreign languages, but here are some translations. ^^;

**_Sei serio? Hai intenzione di visitare la Germania, e mi stai prendendo con voi, di nuovo?!_** = Are you serious? You're going to visit Germany, and you're taking me with you, again?!  
**_Sì, il Grande Fratello =_**Yes, Big Brother!  
_**Idiota**_ = Idiot  
_**Fratello stupido!**_ = Stupid brother!  
_**Mio amico**_ = My friend  
**_Fratello_ **= Brother  
**_Ma non aspettarti che io sia bello in Germania!_** = But do not expect me to be nice in Germany!  
_**Grazie!**_ = Thanks!  
_**Mio Dio** _= My God  
**_Italia_** = Italy  
_**Il mio bellissimo amore** =_ My beautiful love_  
__**Mio caro** = _My dear_  
____**Protettore** = _Protector___  
____**Fidanzato** = _Boyfriend___  
____**Peccato** = _Shame___  
____**Fastidio** = _Annoyance___  
____**Presto** = _Hurry___  
____****__Dobbiamo fare in fretta e prendere la Germania prima di andare a un altro incontro_! = We have to hurry and find Germany before he goes to another meeting!  
_____**Entschuldigen Sie mich** =_ Excuse me_____  
______****__Aber sind Sie auf der Suche nach Mr. Deutschland_ = But are you looking for Germany?_____  
______****__Ja! Wissen Sie wo er ist, vielleicht?_ = Yes! Do you know where he is, maybe?_____  
__**Per l'amor di Dio** =_ For God's sake_______  
****__Sind Sie sicher, dass das okay_? = Are you sure that's okay?  
_________**Ja, es funktioniert Vater mit Mr. Deutschland. Er erzählte mir, für ein italienisches am Flughafen heute aussehen, aber ich glaube, ich habe zwei. Du bist Italienisch, nicht wahr? Ist Ihr Name Italien?** = _Yes, Father works for Mr. Germany. He told me to go to the airport today and look for an Italian, but I think I've found two. You're Italian, right? Is your name Italy?

Again...sorry for the Italian and German...I hadn't meant to make it so...difficult.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic! Don't forget to rate and review! **_Ciao!_**

* * *

"_Sei serio? Hai intenzione di visitare la Germania, e mi stai prendendo con voi, di nuovo?!_"

The younger, and arguably happier Italian, nodded swiftly. "_Sì, il Grande Fratello!_" he chirped. "I thought it would be fun for you to come along! We hardly to get to see each other, and Germany is so nice…"

Romano (or South Italy, whichever you prefer) sniffed. He didn't like Germany; plain and simple. Why did Veneziano always insist on dragging him along to visit the potato-sucking bastard? Every time he did he just felt like more of an _idiota. _

"Damn you, _fratello stupido_! You know I hate that wurst-loving, blonde man!" he growled, hitting his brother (lightly, of course) on the head. Even though the blow was soft and meant to show Romano's anger in the least harmful way possible, Italy began to tear up anyway.

"But Romano…" he cried. "Germany is a nice guy…and he always protects me." The innocent young man wiped the small tears from his face. "He's _mio_ _amico_. I'm sure you'll get to like him someday."

It was unlikely, but since he was unwilling to upset his brother more and risk even greater whining and crying, Romano grudgingly agreed. "Fine, _fratello_. I'll go. _Ma non aspettarti che io sia bello in Germania!_"

Italy immediately cheered up, and his face was lit by a smile. "Really Romano? You will?" His voice rose in pitch as his excitement grew. "_Grazie, frattello!_"

An hour later found Romano and his younger brother, Veneziano, on a flight to Berlin, Germany. As the southern half of Italy gazed at the endless land gliding past far below him, he couldn't help but be impressed. His brother had taken good care of his part of the beautiful country. If he hadn't made the mistake of allying himself with Germany and depending on him for everything, Romano might have been proud of his younger sibling.

**Mio Dio**, he thought exasperatedly. _If you needed help, _**Italia**_, you could've just come to Big Brother Spain and I._

Throughout their flight, Veneziano filled his _fratello's_ ears with endless chatter. He talked about everything from Germany to his favorite foods (pasta and pizza, of course, and wurst as well) before going back to Germany again. Romano wasn't sure how long he would be able to stand the constant talk-talk-talking.

He'd just have to tune it out, he supposed.

So he focused on the Italian countryside below him. The rolling hills swathed in lush green coloring were only interrupted by the occasional family farm. Surely there was not a more beautiful place in the world? The purity and simplicity of the entire nation was…astounding. There weren't many countries that were able to maintain their land's natural state anymore. Italy was one of few.

In the background, Romano heard his brother flirting with a young lady in the seat beside them. "_Il mio bellissimo amore_, surely there is someone on this flight that is going to protect you once we get to Germany? It's a very dangerous country, _mio caro!_" he allured. "If you would like, I can be your _protettore!_"

_Really little_ **fratello**_**?**_he asked silently. _Flirting with women when we are on a flight to go and see who is practically your _**fidanzato**_**? **_**Peccato, peccato.**

Aside from Italy's constant chatter and charming of the ladies on plane (or an even more annoying combination of both), the trip was mostly uneventful. Romano had managed to (mostly) refrain from hitting the _fastidio_ or hurting his feelings, and so things had progressed smoothly. Within hours, they had reached Berlin, their destination, though the two had different attitudes about their arrival. While Veneziano was dejected about leaving the pretty girls to go their separate ways, he was childishly excited about being so close to seeing Germany again. Romano, however, while glad to be off the plane, was _not_ excited about even being in Germany's _country_.

"_Presto, presto_, Romano!" Italy called from a few meters ahead. "_Dobbiamo fare in fretta e prendere la Germania prima di andare a un altro incontro!_"

Romano silently cursed his younger sibling. In his excitement, Veneziano had started speaking fully in his native language; if their looks had not given away their racial background, that had. Now every German in the airport was staring their way with a look that said, _Wonderful, more Italian tourists to degrade our country. _It was clear the only word of the Italian babble they had understood was "_Germania_"; they had probably just interpreted the rest as, "_Let's go wreck this place!_"

Most Germans did not have good opinions about Italians.

As he was reflecting on this, Southern Italy was tapped on the shoulder from behind. Turning, he saw a young boy with cropped sunny blonde hair and bright green eyes staring up at him. "_Entschuldigen Sie mich,_" the youth said. "_Aber sind Sie auf der Suche nach Mr. Deutschland?_"

Romano's mind went blank, unable to comprehend German _at all_. He briefly considered snapping some kind of sarcastic and rude remark in Italian as a reply, but before he could, his brother translated for him. "He was asking if we were looking for Germany!" he chirped. Kneeling in front of the boy, _Italia_ answered in German: "_Ja! Wissen Sie wo er ist, vielleicht?_"

When had Veneziano learned German, _per l'amor di Dio?! _

The little boy nodded, and took Italy's hand to lead him out of the airport. "_Sind Sie sicher, dass das okay?_" he asked.

The boy replied with, "_Ja, es funktioniert Vater mit Mr. Deutschland. Er erzählte mir, für ein italienisches am Flughafen heute aussehen, aber ich glaube, ich habe zwei. Du bist Italienisch, nicht wahr? Ist Ihr Name Italien?"_

Romano followed the two out onto the streets of Berlin, listening to their conversation. The only words he recognized were "_italienisches_," "_Italienisch_," and "_Italien_." He sighed.

Now he knew how the Germans had felt listening to Veneziano speak _his_ native language.

"_Fratello!_" Italy called over his shoulder. "This boy says Germany sent him to look for us at the airport! He was waiting for us!"

**Mio Dio**.

It was going to be a _very_ long trip.


End file.
